T?  AC 


T  H  E 


SONG  OF  MILKANWATHA 


TRANSLATED     FROM 


THE    ORIGINAL    FEEJEE 


MARC    ANTHONY    HENDERSON,    D.C.L. 


PROFESSOR   OF  THE    FEEJEE    LANGUAGE   AND   LITERATURE     IN   THE     BRANDYWINB 
FEMALE    ACADEMY 


ILLUSTRATED    BY   FRANK    BEARD 


"  There  were  who  spiritual  legends  feigned, 
Half  lofty,  half  profound,  not   nigh  half  true." 

PHILIP  JAMES  BAILEY 


THIRD    EDITION 


ALBANY,  N.  Y. 
D.  R.  NIVER,  46   N.  PEARL  STREET 


Copyright,  1883,  by  D.  R.  Niver. 


OUTING  PUBLISHING  AND  PRINTING  Co.  [LIMITED] 
ALBANY,   N.  Y. 


l-U 


THE   SONG  OF  MILKANWATHA. 


958704 


"  He,   of  a   damsel,   with   fellow-maidens   sporting, 
In   vital  brilliance   dropping   through   the   star-gate 
Of  the   high   luminous   laml,    was   born; 
And  lifting  into   life   his   facial   flower, 
Throughout  the   vast   passivity  he    passed, 
All   active;    scaling   on   foot  the   mount, 
That  he   his   starry  ancestry   might  hail, 
There    converse   held,   with   all   the   eloquent   orbs; 
Adown   a   foamy   current,   in   a   skiff, 
Dimpling  the   wave,   he   sped;    great   the   show 
Of  lawny-weepers,   lifted  to   dim   eyes; 
He    fainted,   asked   the   watery  powers,    and   at  last, 
With   eyne   by   spirit-fire   purged,   discerned 
How   sweet   was   truth,    for   death   in   truth   was   life, 
Initiate,   mystic,   perfected,   epopt, 
Illuminate,   adept,   transcendent,  he 
Ivy-like  lived,   and   died,   and   again   lived, 
Resuscitant — god   of  psycho-pompous   function." 

"  THE  MYSTIC."— Philip  James  Bailey. 


TRANSLATOR'S  PREFACE. 


A  WORD  or  two  witli  reference  to  the  following  POEM,  which  is 
now  for  the  first  time  presented  to  the  civilized  world. 

That,  in  many  of  its  parts,  there  is  a  strong  correspondence  be 
tween  it  and  Mr.  LONGFELLOW'S  great  work,  "The  Song  of 
Hiawatha,"  is  too  apparent  to  be  overlooked.  But  so  far  from 
basing  upon  this  similarity  of  incident  and  treatment,  a  charge  of 
literary  piracy  against  Mr.  LONGFELLOW,  as  has  been  done  by 
some  who  have  discovered  a  much  fainter  likeness  to  a  poem  of 
Scandinavian  origin — the  translator  recognizes  in  it  only  another 
evidence  of  that  unity  of  thought  which  characterizes  the  human 
species,  and  which  is  a  natural  consequence  of  the  unity  of  the 
races,  of  which  the  great  family  of  man  is  composed. 

How  far  the  "  Song  of  Hiawatha"  may  be  justly  deemed  an 
imitation,  however,  in  outline,  incident,  or  versification,  of  the 
Scandinavian — or  of  the  poem  from  the  Feejee,  here  presented  to 
our  readers — it  is  for  them,  and  not  for  the  translator,  to  decide; 
but  it  is  believed  that  a  careful  comparison,  one  with  another,  will 
disclose  many  curious  resemblances  in  form  and  feature,  which  may 
be  thought  worthy  the  attention  of  men  of  letters. 

5 


vi  TRANSLATOR'S  PREFACE. 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  add  that,  so  far  as  he  was  able  to  ap 
preciate  the  spirit  of  the  Poem,  the  translator  has  endeavored  faith 
fully  to  retain  it. 

The  liberties  which  he  has  taken  have  been  verbal  only,  and 
such  as  are  unavoidable  in  transplanting  the  ideas  and  emotions  of  a 
people  from  their  own  language  to  another. 

For  example,  "  Polli-wog-in "  has  been  translated  farmers, 
although  the  use  of  the  word  may  seem  a  strange  one  to  those  into 
whose  conception  of  the  Feejee  character  the  idea  of  industry 
has  never  entered. 

The  reason,  however,  is  obvious — since  our  estimates  of  things 
are  always  relative,  and  he  who  keeps  a  pig  or  grows  a  square 
yard  of  potatoes  among  a  people  distinctively  savage,  judged  by  their 
standard  of  labor,  is  as  emphatically  a  farmer  as  the  man  who 
plows,  in  America,  his  hundred  acres,  and  whose  cattle  graze  upon 
a  thousand  hills. 

Several  words  and  forms  of  expression  which  in  our  language 
have  become  obsolete,  such  as  her'n,  his'n,  ouch,  not  never,  not  for  no 
one,  did  n't  Jiothing,  a-rolling,  a-sitting,  etc.,  are  retained  because  of 
their  striking  analogy  to  words  and  expressions  representing  the 
same  ideas  in  the  Feejee  tongue. 

The  word  that  designates  the  Water  treatment  which  we  call 
Hydropathy,  is  so  rendered  from  the  original,  "  Sit-an'-shiver." 

If  the  objection  be  made  to  the  scenes  and  characters  as  repre 
sented  in  the  translation,  that  they  indicate  so  advanced  a  stage  of 
social  progress  as  to  suggest  the  probability  of  their  having  caught 
an  unconscious  coloring  from  the  fancy  of  the  translator,  it  may  be 
fairly  met  with  the  presumption  that  a  closer  familiarity  with  the 


TRANSLATOR  S    PREFACE.  Vll 

manners  and  mode  of  life  of  the  Feejees,  on  the  part  of  the  reader, 
would  show  the  invalidity  of  such  objections. 

To  give  an  impulse  to  investigation  in  this  direction  is  the  trans 
lator's  only  motive  in  publication,  and  his  earnest  hope  is  that  this 
simple  Poem  may  serve  to  interest  the  Christian  World  in  the  peo 
ple  among  whom  it  is  still  preserved,  and  in  whose  midst  he  has 
spent  several  memorable  years. 
CLOVER  DELL,  Feb.  1856. 


per,  each  35  cents. 


MILKANWATHA.  A  capital  parody  on  HIAWATHA, 
By  MARC  AJTTHOXY  HEXDEHSON.  Third  edition.  Illustrated 
by  Frank  Beard.  16mo,  99  pp.,  cloth,  75  cents. 
It  is  commendation  enough  for  this  book  to  say  that  William 
Cullen  Bryant  was  so  delighted  with  it.  that,  on  obtaining  a  copy 
from  the  first  edition,  which  was  limited  and  printed  for  private 
circulation,  being  unable  to  retain  it,  he  caused  the  entire  book  to 
be  copied  for  him  so  that  he  could  preserve  it.  It  only  goes  to 
prove  the  truth  of  the  saying,  "  A  little  nonsense  now  and  then  ip 
relished  by  the  wisest  men."  A  new,  fine  edition  of  "AIiLKAN- 
WATHA"  has  now  been  brought  out  by  the  D.  R.  NiverPub.  Co. 
and  is  meeting  with  a  rapid  sale.  Any  one  who  has  ever  read.  Hia 
watha — and  who  has  not  ?  — cannot  fail  to  enjoy  the  parody.  The 
illustrations  are  by  Frank  Beard,  of  Chautauqua  fame,  and  are  ei 
cellent.  The  proper  way  to  enjoy  such  a  book  is  to  read  it  aloud  ID 
the  family.  Sent,  post-paid,  for  75  cents. 

D.  R.  NIVER  PUBLISHING  CO., 

6O5  and  6O7  BROADWAr  ,       °       ALBANY,  N.  Y 


ARGUMENT. 


THE  Birth  and  Childhood  of  the  Hero.  His  Youth.  He  forms 
the  acquaintance  of  two  singular  individuals.  Goes  courting,  and 
is  married.  His  two  friends  swept  away  by  the  Watta-puddel,  or 
Rushing  River,  to  the  land  of  Ponee-rag-bag,  situated  farther  down 
ward.  His  wife  is  seized  with  chills  and  fever,  and  being  supposed 
dead,  is  thrown  into  the  River,  but  revived  by  the  sudden  shock  of 
the  water,  is  borne  in  safety  to  Ponee-rag-bag.  The  hero,  in  a  fit  of 
temporary  insanity,  follows  her  in  his  skiff.  Reaching  Ponee-rag- 
bag,  he  finds  not  only  his  wife,  but  his  friends  also,  awaiting  him. 
Their  strange  preservation  suggests  the  Water  treatment  in  disease, 
and  returning  with  them  he  becomes  the  founder  of  the  Hydropathic 
System. 


The   scene   is    laid    in    the   Island  of    Chaw-a-man-up,    one    of    the  Feejee 
Group. 


THE  SONG  OF  MILKANWATHA. 


INTRODUCTION. 

If  an  individual  person, 
Say  John  Smith,*  or  John  Smith's  uncle, 
Or  some  other  friend  of  his'n  . 
Should  propound  to  me  the  question, 
Whence  derived  you  these  traditions 
Which  you  are  about  to  tell  us, 
With  their  incidents  peculiar; 
These  strange  legends  so  mysterious, 
With  the  smell  of  trees  and  flowers, 
With  the  sound  of  brooks  and  breezes, 
With  the  roaring  of  the  thunder 


*  The  name  John  Smith,  which  occurs  several  times  in  the  following  intro 
duction,  has  been  employed  because,  by  conventional  use,  it  has  come  to  express 
the  idea  of  man  in  the  concrete. 


INTRODUCTION. 


Ever  sounding,  never  ceasing, 
Going  when  you  think  it 's  stopping, 
Going  as  a  woman's  tongue  goes, 
As  a  lively  woman's  tongue  goes; 


I  would  speak  up,  I  would  tell  him, 
"  From  the  regions  far  beyond  here, 
From  the  mighty  wildernesses 
Where  the  Spoopendykes  inhabit, 
Where  the  Noodles  pitch  their  wigwams, 
From  the  hill-tops  bare  and  breezy, 
From  the  valleys  soft  and  mushy, 
From  the  marshes  and  the  duck-ponds, 
Where  the  melancholy  bull-frog, 
Brek-e-kex-co-ax,  the  bull-frog, 
Sitteth  in  the  slimy  waters  : 


"  As  I  heard  them,  so  I  tell  them, 
Literatim  et  verbatim, 
Just  exactly  as  I  heard  them 


INTRODUCTION. 

From  the  mouth  of  Rumpalumpkin, 
Him  as  played  upon  the  bagpipes, 
Played — and  sang  between  the  blowings." 

And  if  John  Smith,  or  his  uncle, 
Or  some  other  friend  of  his'n, 
Should  inquire  where  Rumpalumpkin 
Came  across  these  strange  traditions ; 

I  would  speak  up,  I  would  tell  him, 
"  In  the  trees  where  climb  the  squirrels, 
In  the  holes  where  crouch  the  woodchucks, 
In  the  cracks  the  spiders  hide  in, 
In  the  hornets'  nest  he  found  them ; 

"  All — or  nearly  all — the  wildfowl 
Sang  them,  shrieked  them,  in  the  marshes, 
In  the  marshes  by  the  duck-ponds ; 
Pee-nee-wig  the  turkey-buzzard, 
And  the  gray-goose  Dab-si-dido ; 
Quag  the  duck,  the  snipe  Lum-bago, 
And  the  long-legged,  bush-necked  partridge, 
Rigdam-bol-le-meta-kimo. " 


INTRODUCTION. 

And  if  John  Smith,  or  his  uncle, 
Or  some  other  friend  of  his'n, 
Asked  me,  Who  is  Rumpalumpkin  ? 
Tell  us  more  of  Rumpalumpkin ; 
I  should  speak  up  very  quickly, 
And  reply  to  him  in  this  way : 

"  In  the  valley  of  Mus-tug-gin, 
That  extremely  verdant  valley, 
Where,  in  summer,  green  the  trees  were, 
Bare  and  leafless  in  the  winter; 
Where  the  streams  flowed  in  the  Summer, 
But  in  WTinter  time  were  frozen ; 
In  this  very  verdant  valley, 
Lighted  by  the  sparkling  waters, 
By  the  forest  branches  shaded, 
Lived  the  man  as  played  the  bagpipes, 
Played— and  sang  between  the  blowings — 
Lived  the  minstrel  Rampalumpkin." 

Ye  who  like  this  sort  of  legend, 
Like  it  well  enough  to  listen, 
Like  the  way  the  thing  is  done  in, 


INTRODUCTION. 

Like  a  story  so  unmeaning, 
That,  to  save  your  life,  you  cannot 
See  nor  head  nor  tail  un-A?  it, 
Tell  the  end  from  the  beginning — 
Listen  to  this  wondrous  story, 
To  this  Song  of  Milkanwatha. 


Ye  who  will  not  writhe  nor  wriggle 
While  I  tell  this  story  to  you, 
Will  not  look  or  act  uneasy, 
But  will  give  your  whole  attention, 
Without  gaping,  stretching,  yawning, 
While  I  tell  this  story  to  you; 
Listen  now,  for  I  will  tell  it, 
Tell  it  truly,  as  I  told  you, 
As  I  told  you  I  would  tell  it, 
On  condition,  you  remember, 
That  you  would  not  writhe  nor  wriggle, 
But  would  give  your  whole  attention 
Without  gaping,  stretching,  yawning, 
While  I  tell  this  story  to  you; 
Listen  now  all  ye,  I  pray  you, 
Hear  this  Song  of  Milkanwatha. 


I. 


MILKANWATHA'S  CHILDHOOD. 

LONG  ago,  in  days  that  are  not, 
In  the  times  that  no  one  knows  of, 
Right  head-foremost  thro'  the  evening 
From  the  shining  planet  Venus, 
Swiftly  down  came  Kimo-kairo, 
Came  the  long  haired  Kimo-kairo, 
Married,  but  without  no  children. 


She  was  climbing  up  a  plum-tree, 
Plum-tree  in  the  planet  Venus, 
Climbing  with  some  other  women, 
When,  alas,  the  branch  she  stood  on 
Cracked  and  snapped,  because  't  was  rotten, 
Cracked  and  snapped  off  quite  completely, 
And  head-foremost  thro'  the  evening, 
7 


MILKANWATHA  S     CHILDHOOD. 

Fell  the  long  haired  Kimo-kairo, 
Fell  the  shrieking  Kimo-kairo, 
Fell  the  long-haired,  shrieking  Kimo, 
Down  to  Plow-e-tup  the  cornfield, 
In  the  cornfield  soft  and  mushy. 
"  Look  !  a  rocket !  "  said  the  farmers, 
"  Some  one  must  have  fired  a  rocket, 
'Cause  that  was  the  stick  that  come  down/ 


'Midst  the  chickweed  and  the  clover, 
Lying  on  some  last  year's  huskings, 
In  the  Plow-e-tup,  the  cornfield, 
Kimo-kairo  had  a  son  born, 
And  she  called  him  Milkanwatha, 
Him  as  is  our  story's  hero, 
The  real,  genuine  Milkanwatha. 


But  alas  for  Kimo-kairo  ! 
And  alas  for  Milkanwatha  ! 
She,  the  mother,  was  so  injured 
Falling  from  the  planet  Venus, 
Plum-tree  in  the  planet  Venus, 


MILKANWATHA'S   CHILDHOOD. 

And  the  Plow-e-tup  the  cornfield 
Was  so  very  cool  and  open, 
Such  a  breezy  place  to  lie  in, 
That,  to  save  her  life,  she  could  not 
Keep  from  dying  while  she  lay  there, 
Lay  upon  the  last  year's  huskings; 
So  she  died,  poor  Kimo-kairo, 
And  beside  her,  Milkanwatha 
Rolled  and  cried,  unhappy  baby, 
Wond'ring  why  she  didn't  nurse  him, 
Thinking  her  alive  as  usual. 

There  they  both  were  found,  next  morning, 
By  the  ancient  nurse  Marcosset ; 
Her  whom  all  the  neighbors  honored 
For  her  skill  in  nursing  sick-folks, 
Chiefly,  through  the  chills  and  fever: 
There  she  found  sweet  Kimo-kairo 
Lying  dead  upon  the  huskings ; 
And  not  far  off — found  our  hero, 
Very  wide  awake  and  kicking. 

On  the  banks  of  Watta-puddel- 


io  MILKANWATHA'S    CHILDHOOD. 

Rushing  river,  Watta-puddel — 
Stood  the  ancient  nurse's  wigwam, 
Stood  the  wigwam  of  Marcosset : 
Back  behind  it  dark  the  woods  were, 
Dark  as  pitch  the  woods  behind  it; 
Swift  before  it  rolled  the  river, 
Rolled  its  torrent  ever  onward, 
Through  the  long  and  dismal  forests, 
Through  the  mountains  and  the  valleys, 
In  the  sunlight  and  the  moonlight, 
Toward  the  unknown  Ponee-rag-bag, 
Toward  the  regions  farther  downward. 


Here  Marcosset,  ancient  female, 
Nursed  the  baby  Milkanwatha ; 
Gave  him  porridge,  gave  him  catnip, 
Gave  him  pap  and  water-gruel ; 
When  he  fretted,  quickly  hushed  him, 


Saying,  "  Wild-cat,  scratch  his  eyes  out." 
Saying,  "  Bulldog,  bite  his  toes  off ;  " 
Put  him  fast  asleep  by  humming, 


MILKANWATHA'S    CHILDHOOD.  u 

"  Hitta-ka-dink,  my  duck,  my  darling, 
Who  's  this  with  the  funny  snub-nose, ' 
Snub- nose,  so  uncommon  snubby? 
Hitta-ka-dink,  my  duck,  my  darling." 


Here  he,  day  by  day,  grew  older, 
Sat  alone  upon  the  door-step, 
Heard  the  summer  breezes  moaning, 
Heard  the  waters  ever  plashing, 
Sounds  unusual  and  peculiar; 
"  Tizzarizzen,"  sighed  the  breezes — 
"  Splosh-ka-swosh-ky,"  plashed  the  river. 

• 
Here  he  saw  the  Melee-wee-git, 

Lightning-bug,  the  Melee-wee-git, 
Saw  the  Feesh-go-bang,  musquito, 
Saw  Snappo,  the  pinching-beetle, 
Saw  the  dragon-fly,  |nap-peter, 

- 

And  the  flea,  too,  Sticka-ta-wa-in. 

Saw  above  him,  in  the  heavens, 
The  Aurora  red  and  glowing — 


1 2  MILKANV/ATHA'S    CHILDHOOD. 

Wondered  what  it  was  that  did  it — 
Said,  "What  is  that  there,  Marcosset?" 
And  Marcosset  up  and  answered, 
"  Once  an  angry  boy  I  know  of, 
Took  and  clutched  his  uncle  To-bee, 
Took  and  pitched  him,  in  the  evening, 
Up  into  the  starry  heavens; 
Right  against  the  boulder  pavement 
Of  the  Milky-way  he  pitched  him, 
And  his  blood  and  brains  went  splashing 
Over  all  the  sky  around  there ; 
That 's  what  makes  them  spots  upon  it — 
That  is  why  it 's  called  Aurora."  * 

Saw  the  dazzling  planet  Venus 
Blushing  o'er  the  dark  horizon; 
Said,  "What  is  that  there,  Marcosset?" 
And  Marcosset  up  and  answered, 
"  That 's  the  hole  your  mother  fell  through, 
When  she  tumbled  from  the  plum-tree — 
Plum-tree  in  the  planet  Venus — 
Down  to  Plow-e-tup  the  cornfield." 

*A  capital   pun  upon  this  word,  in  the  original,  is  entirely  lost  in  the  trans 
lation. 


MILKANWATHA'S    CHILDHOOD.  13 

And  whenever,  in  the  evening, 

Brek-e-kex-co-ax,  the  bull-frog, 

Made  all  kinds  of  dismal  noises, 

Milkanwatha,  trembling,  whispered, 
"What  an  awful  noise;    what  does  it?" 

And  Marcosset  up  and  answered; 
"  'T  is  the  bull-frog's  way  of  singing, 

Singing  to  another  bull-frog 

In  the  marshes  and  the  duck-ponds — 

Only  that,  my  Milkanwatha." 


So,  by  slow  degrees,  it  turned  out, 
That  he  learned  the  names  of  all  things, 
Of  the  birds,  and  beasts,  and  fishes, 
Of  the  bugs  of  each  description, 
How  they  looked  and  where  they  hided, 
And  their  general  mode  of  living; 
So  he  gained  from  old  Marcosset, 
Much  important  information, 
Much  which  ive  can  never  know  of 
In  our  day  and  generation — 
Our  degenerate  generatioa 


II. 

MILKANWATHA'S  HUNTING. 


Now,  about  this  time,  Sumpunkin, 
He,  the  jolly  wag,  Sumpunkin, 
He,  the  crony  of  Marcosset, 
Made  a  very  stylish  blow-gun 
For  our  hero,  Milkanwatha; 
Made  it  from  a  stalk  of  alder, 
From  a  willow  made  some  arrows — 
Little  arrows  for  to  blow  through — • 
And  each  arrow  had  a  pin  in. 


This  he  gave  to  Milkanwatha 
For  to  keep,  he  said,  remarking, 
"  You  must  go,  my  little  fellow, 
Go  into  the  woods  behind  here, 
Go  and  kill  a  pretty  squirrel, 
Go  and  kill  a  rather  big  one." 


MILKANWATHA'S   HUNTING.  15 

Right  into  the  woods  behind  there 
Ran  the  gallant  Milkamvatha, 
With  his  arrows  and  his  blow-gun  : 
And  he  heard  the  birds  exclaiming, 
"Don't  you  blow  at  me  your  arrows, 
Blow  your  arrows  with  a  pin  in, 
Oh,  now,  Milkanwatha,  do  n't  you." 


Cried  the  O-pee-pod,  the  bullfinch, 
Cried  the  Nill-e-pip,  the  chippy, 
"  Do  n't  you  blow  at  me  your  arrows, 
With  a  pin  in,  Milkanwatha." 


On  a  stump,  not  far  before  him, 
Hopped  the  Lingo-sneedel,  smiling, 
Hopped  the  Lingo-sneedel,  blue-bird, 
Sneezed,  and  cried  out,  after  sneezing, 
"  Do  n't  you  blow  at  me  your  arrows, 
With  a  pin  in,  Milkanwatha." 

And  a  little  off  to  one  side, 
Peeped  the  Yella-gal,  the  woodchuck, 


1 6  MILKANWATHA'S    HUNTING. 

Sort  o'  fear'd  and  sort  o'  not  so, 
Peeped  and  squeaked  to  Milkamvatha, 
"  Do  n't  you  blow  at  me  your  arrows, 
With  a  pin  in,  Milkanwatha." 


Onward  through  the  woods  behind  there 
Walked  he,  stalked  he,  with  his  blow-gun, 
Heeding  not  these  observations ; 
Neither  Opee-pod,  the  bullfinch, 
Nor  the  Nill-e-pip,  the  chippy, 
Nor  the  Yella-gal,  the  woodchuck, 
Nor  the  bluebird,  Lingo-sneedel — 
He  was  hunting  after  squirrels, 
After  squirrels  only,  he  was. 


Crouching  down  behind  an  old  log, 
Pretty  soon  he  saw  a  squirrel, 
And  it  was  a  rather  big  one ; 
Saw  a  squirrel's  head  on  one  side — 
Saw  a  squirrel's  tail  the  other — 
Head  and  tail  of  one  big  squirrel : 


C"  "}         K?* 

":      Jo 


"  lie  \vns  hunting  after  squirrels, 

A  ft, -i-  cnmrrols  ,,nlv.    //-•  urns." 


MILKANWATHA'S    HUNTING.  17 

Taking  in  a  long  breath,  very, 
Milkanwatha  aimed  his  blow-gun — 
Blew  through  with  the  long  breath,  very, 
With  the  long  breath  that  he  took  in ; 
Squirrel's  tail  a  moment  quivered,  \ 

Squirrel  closed  his  eyes  a  moment, 
Turned  a  somerset,  completely, 
And  lay  dead  upon  the  old  log; 
For  the  arrow  with  the  pin  in, 
To  his  brain  had  penetrated, 
Like  a  big  musquito  stung  him. 


In  the  wilderness,  behind  there, 
Far  behind  Marcosset's  wigwam, 
Far  away  from  Watta-Puddel, 
Lay  defunct  Peek-week,  the  squirrel — 
Lay  without  a  breath  or  motion, 
Hearing  not  the  breezes'  sighing, 
Hearing  not  their  Tizzarizzen, 
As  they  moaried  his  sad  condition, 
As  they  sobbed,  amid  the  branches, 
O'er  the  death  that  he  had  come  to, 
O'er  his  speedy  dissolution. 


1 8  MILKAXWATHA'S    HUNTING. 

But  the  victor,  in  his  triumph, 
Jumped  and  waved  his  hat,  exulting 
O'er  the  death  that  he  had  come  to, 
O'er  his  speedy  dissolution  : 
And,  with  eager  haste,  he  ran  home, 
In  one  hand  Peek-week,  the  squirrel, 
In  the  other  hand  the  blow-gun — 
Fearful  instrument,  the  blow-gun  ; 
And  Marcosset  and  Sumpunkin, 
Kissed  him,  'cause  he  killed  the  squirrel, 
'Cause  it  was  a  rather  big  one. 


From  the  squirrel-skin,  Marcosset 
Made  some  mittens  for  our  hero. 
Mittens  with  the  fur-side  inside, 
With  the  fur-side  next  his  fingers 
So  's  to  keep  the  hand  warm  inside ; 
That  was  why  she  put  the  fur-side — 
Why  she  put  the  fur-side  inside. 


From  the  other  parts  Marcosset, 
From  the  lungs,  and  lights,  and  liver, 


MILKANWATHA'S    HUNTING.  1 9 

Brain,  and  heart,  and  spinal  marrow — 

Made  a  squirrel  chowder  for  him  ; 

And  their  friends  dropped  in  to  eat  some  ; 

Smacked  their  lips,  while  they  were  eating, 

'Cause  'twas  such  a  tender  squirrel; 

Smacked  the  lips  of  Milkanwatha, 

After  they  had  finished  eating, 

'Cause  he  was  so  bold  a  hunter, 

Called  him  Good-boy,  Mulee-donkee, 

Called  him  Brave-boy,  Spoo-ne-boo-be. 


He  killed  the  noble  Mudjoklvis, 
With  the  skin  he  made  him  mittens, 
Made  them  with  the  fur  side  inside; 
Made  them  with  the  skin  side  outside; 
He,  to  get  the  warm  side  inside, 
Put  the  inside  skin  side  outside; 
He,  to  get  the  cold  side  outside, 
Put  the  warm  side,  fur  side  inside; 
That's  why  he  put  the  fur  side  inside, 
Why  he  put  the  skin  side  outside, 
Why  he  turned  them  inside  outside. 


III. 


MILKANWATHA'S  YOUTH  AND  EARLY  MANHOOD. 


MILKANWATHA,  now,  was  older — 
Older,  bigger  than  he  had  been 
Since  his  mother,  Kimo-kairo, 
In  the  cornfield  came  and  bore  him. 
None  were  half  as  big  as  he  was, 
None  were  half  as  tall  as  he  was, 
None  were  half  as  strong  as  he  was ; 
None  could  lift  the  things  that  he  could, 
None  could  catch  the  things  that  he  could, 
None  could  eat  the  things  that  he  could ; 
No  one  ever  laughed  so  loudly, 
As  he  laughed,  when  something  funny 
Happened  for  to  come  across  him ; 
Ever  saw  such  sights  as  he  did, 
Ever  thrashed  so  many  rascals, 
Ever  kissed  so  many  damsels, 

Ever  nursed  so  many  children. 
20 


"That  his  heels  would  strike  together 
Eighty  times,  and  even  ninety." 


MILKANWATHA'S  YOUTH  AND  EARLY  MANHOOD.      21 

He  could  take  and  fire  an  arrow — 
Run  right  after — go  right  by  it — 
Then  stop  short  and  say,  distinctly, 
Always  "Jac,  "  and  sometimes,  "  Robbin-sun," 
Ere  the  lazy  arrow  got  there. 

He  could  take  and  throw  a  stone  so, 
Throw  it  right  up  over-head  so, 
At  the  moment  when  the  sun  set, 
That  it  wouldn't  think  of  dropping, 
Till  the  sun  came  up,  next  morning, 
Till  the  Doodel-doo,  the  rooster, 
Crowed  the  daylight  up  next  morning. 

He  could  do  the  Cutta-dido — 
Cut  the  pigeon's  wing,  so  quickly, 
That  his  heels  would  strike  together, 
Eighty  times  and  even  ninety — 
Once  he  did  it  ninety-nine  times — 
One  more  would  have  made  the  hundred. 

He  had  leggins,  Roota-ba-ga, 
That  were  quite  peculiar  leggins ; 


22       MILKANWATHA'S  YOUTH  AND   EARLY   MANHOOD. 

When  they  were  put  on  and  buttoned, 
He  could  step  from  here  to  yonder, 
Step  from  here,  'way  over  yonder, 
Step  right  up  on  the  horizon, 
And  converse  there,  with  the  full  moon. 


He  had  Clog-a-logs,  moreover, 
Boots — with  which  on  one  occasion. 
While  conversing  with  the  full  moon, 
On  the  edge  of  the  horizon, 
He,  so  fiercely,  kicked  his  foot  out, 
That  he  hit  the  constellation, 
Thimbel- nubbin,  or  Big  Dipper, 
Kicked  a  hole  right  in  the  bottom, 
So  that  all  the  water  ran  through, 
Which  was  put  there,  for  the  Great  Bear, 
For  to  come  and  wash  his  feet  in.  • 


All  the  eagles  of  the  mountains 
Flew  far  over  Milkanwatha ; 
All  the  wild  beasts  of  the  forest 
Trembled,  when  he  strided  toward  them, 
Fled  into  the  shadows  trembling. 


MILKANWATHA'S  YOUTH  AND  EARLY  MANHOOD.       23 

All  the  old  men  praised  his  courage, 
All  the  young  men  owned  him  strongest, 
All  the  women  wished  for  children, 
Wished  for  sons  as  brave  as  he  was ; 
All  the  maidens  gazed  upon  him, 
Gazed  with  silent  admiration, 
Gazed  with  beating  hearts  and  blushes, 
As  he  passed  their  lonely  wigwams, 
And  returned  with  sighs  and  weeping, 
To  their  usual  avocations; 
Wishing,  as  they  darned  their  stockings — 
Scrubbed,  and  baked,  and  swept,  and  dusted, 
Did  clear-starching,  did  crochet-ing, 
Made  pincushions,  always  heart-shaped, 
Fastened,  two  and  two  together, 
Pierced  all  o'er  with  pins  like  arrows, 
Arrows  from  an  unseen  archer — 
Wishing  that  a  gallant  lover, 
That  a  lover,  like  our  hero, 
Soon  might  come,  and  sit  beside  them 
In  their  wigwams ;  each  one  wishing 
He  was  her'n,  and  she  was  his'n, 
Ever  her'n,  and  ever  his'n, 
Her'n  and  his'n,  now  and  ever; 


24      MILKANWATHA'S  YOUTH  AND  EARLY  MANHOOD. 

Each  one  wishing  for  our  hero — 
But  he  wishing  not  for  no  one ; 
Having  other  things  to  think  of, 
Other  fish  upon  his  griddle, 
Other  fish  to  fry  upon  it. 


\ 


•'  Silli-nimkum,  the  sweet  piper, 

And  t!ie  very  fat  man.  J5ee-del. ' 


MILKANWATHA'S   FRIENDS.  29 

He  had  been,  for  six  months,  rolling, 
Six  month:  and  a  little  over; 
Rolling  on  from  morn  to  evening, 
And  from  season  unto  season, 
Through  all  countries,  nations,  climates, 
Past  the  zones  and  past  the  tropics, 
Past  the  line  of  the  equator, 
Ever  onward,  forward,  downward, 
Till  he  got  to  where  he  came  from — 
Till  he  all  the  earth  had  rolled  round. 


These  two  persons,  just  referred  to, 
Silli-ninkum,  the  sweet  ^iper, 
And  the  very  fat  man,  Bee-del, 
As  I  Ve  mentioned,  were  the  couple — 
Were  the  friends  of  Milkanwatha — 
Whom  he  liked  uncommon  strongly ; 
And  these  three,  this  faithful  trio, 
Never  quarrelled  with  each  other, 
Never  gossipped,  never  back-bit, 
Never  acted  mean,  as  some  do, 
But  they  did  as  they  'd  be  done  by, 
And  they  often  met  together, 


30  MILKANWATHA'S  FRIENDS. 

And  indulged  in  conversation 
In  a  free  and  easy  manner. 


V. 


MILKANWATHA'S  COURTSHIP  AND  MARRIAGE. 

JUST  as,  to  a  big  umbrella, 
Is  the  handle,  when  it 's  raining, 
So  a  wife  is,  to  her  husband; 
Though  the  handle  do  support  it, 
'T  is  the  top  keeps  all  the  rain  off; 
Though  the  top  gets  all  the  wetting, 
T  is  the  handle  bears  the  burden ; 
So  the  top  is  good  for  nothing, 
If  there  is  n't  any  handle, 
And  the  case  holds,  vice  versa. 


In  this  way,  did  Milkamvatha 
Reason,  when  he  was  a-thinking, 
Thinking  of  his  Pogee-wogee, 
Of  the  blue-eyed  Sweet   Potato, 
In  the  village   of  the   Noodles. 


32         MILKANWATHA'S  COURTSHIP  AND  MARRIAGE. 

"  Many   some   one,   living   round   here," 
Said   the   ancient   nurse,    Marcosset; 
"  Do  n't   go   looking   over   yonder, 
For   to   find   a  wife   to   marry : 
As   a   stick   of  maple   candy, 
Is   the   homeliest  girl   around   here ; 
As   a  lozenge   or   a  gum-drop 
Is   the   prettiest   over   yonder." 


And   thus   answered   Milkanwatha; 
"Very   true,    dear   old   Marcosset, 
Mighty   sweet   is   maple   candy, 
But   I   much   prefer   a   lozenge — 
Very  much  prefer   a   gum- drop." 


Said   Marcosset,    "  Do  n't   you   go,   now, 
For   to   get   a   girl   to   marry, 
Knowing   nothing   whatsoever ; 
Bring   one   as   can   do   clear-starching, 
Sew,    and   knit,    and   run   of  errands, 
And   be   generally   useful — 
That  's   the   sort   of  girl   to   marry." 


MILKANWATHA'S  COURTSHIP  AND  MARRIAGE.         33 

Milkanwatha   answered,    cheerful : 
"In   the   regions   far  beyond   here, 
Where   the   Noodles   pitch   their   wigwams, 
Pogee-wogee,   Sweet-Potato, 
Charming   female   is   residing ; 
I   will  go   and   fetch   her   to   you, 
And   she  '11  make   herself  convenient, 
Sew,   and   knit,   and   do   clear-starching, 
Be   your  lozenge,   be   your  gum-drop, 
Be  your  stick  of  maple  candy." 


"  Do  n't   you   go   now,"    said   Marcosset, 
"Go   and   fetch   an   unknown   female, 
Do  n't   you   go   and   fetch   a  Noodle — 
Awful   strange   folks,  are   the   Noodles." 


Then  replied   our   Milkanwatha; 
"  That  's   exactly  why    I   do   it, 
'  Cause   they  're   strange,    and   must  n't   be   so ; 
We   must  make   ourselves   acquainted, 
We  must  go  and   call  upon  them." 
Saying  which,   our   hero,  boldly, 


34         MILKANWATHA'S  COURTSHIP  AND  MARRIAGE. 

Travelled   to   the  regions   northward, 
Past  the   dreary  wildernesses, 
Where   the   Spoopendykes  inhabit, 
To   the  village   of  the   Noodles. 


He   had   put  on   Roota-ba-ga, 
Buttoned   on   the   magic   leggins, 
And,   although   he   kept   a-stepping, 
From   one   hill-top   to   another, 
Over   cornfields,   soft   and   mushy, 
Over  marshes,   goose-ponds,   duck-ponds, 
Yet  he  seemed   a  long  while,   getting 
To   the   home   of  Pogee-wogee, 
To   the   village   of  the   Noodles. 


Shortly   previous   to   arriving, 
He   perceived   a  woodchuck,   peeping — 
Peeping  from   his   hole,   for  fresh   air, 
'  Cause   't  was   badly  ventilated, 
But   the   woodchuck   didn't   see   him ; 
So   he   took   and   kicked   his   foot   out, 
And  he   knocked   the   woodchuck's    brains    out- 


MILKANWATHA'S  COURTSHIP  AND  MARRIAGE.          35 

Just   as   when   he    hit   the    bottom 
Of  the    Dipper,   Thimbel-nubbin,-* 
All   the   water   went  and   ran   through, 
Which   was   put   there,    for   the    Great   Bear, 
For   to   come   and   wash   his   feet   in. 


Then   he   took   the   woodchuck   with   him, 
For   a   gift   to    Pogee-wogee ; 
"Who   is   that?"    inquired   a  Noodle — 
"That's   the   hero    Milkanwatha ; " 
"What  's   he   got?"    "He's   got   a  woodchuck." 


Pogee-wogee 's   loving   grandma 
At   the   front   door   sat,    a-knitting, 
And,   beside   her,    Sweet-Potato, 
Charming   female,    was   a-sitting, 
Looking   somewhat   melancholy. 


The   old   lady's  mind  was   busy- 
Busy   as    her   trembling   fingers ; 


36         MJLKANWATHA'S  COURTSHIP  AND  MARRIAGE. 

Far   away   her   thoughts   were   flitting, 
Midst   the   days   so   long   departed, 
Midst   the   memories   of  girlhood, 
Midst  the   sunny   moments   flitting; 
Flitting   midst   them,    as,    so  often, 
She   had   seen,    in   youthful   rambles 
With   the   dear   ones    gone    forever, 
Bees,   on  restless   wing  pass   lightly, 
Lightly   on   from   flower  to   flower, 
Humming  low,   melodious   music, 
Sporting,   gayly,   in   the   sunshine. 


Pogee's   thoughts  were   busy   also, 
Busy   as   her  grandma's   fingers ; 
She   was   thinking   of  our   hero, 
Wond'ring  why   she  'd   never   met   him, 
Never   heard   his  well-known   footstep, 
Never  seen   his   sturdy  figure, 
Since   that   time   when   they   had   parted, 
Since   that   sunny   summer   morning. 

In  the   midst   of  these   reflections, 
Midst   the   thoughts,    that   passed   before   them, 


MILKANWATHA'S  COURTSHIP  AND  MARRIAGE.         37 

Unexpected,   round  a  corner, 
Rather   wet  with  perspiration, 
Holding   in   his   hand   the   woodchuck, 
Came   the   lover — ardent   lover 
Of  the   Noodle,   Pogee-wogee, 
Came   the   son   of  Kimo-kairo, 
Came  the  joyous   Milkanwatha. 


Ancient  grandame   stopped   her  knitting, 
Laid   the   stocking  in   the   window, 
Asked   him   to   come   in,   remarking, 
"Glad  to  see  you,   Milkanwatha." 

In  the   lap  of  Pogee-wogee 
Milkanwatha   laid   the   woodchuck, 
And   she   looked   at   him  so   tender, 
That   his   blood  ran   cold  within   him, 
Saying,   with   a   bashful   softness, 
"Very   happy  for   to   see  you — 
Very   much   so,    Milkanwatha." 


Soon  as   he  was   seated,   almost, 


38         MILKAXWATHA'S  COURTSHIP  AND  MARRIAGE. 

Pogee-wogee   fetched   refreshments, 
'Cause   he   looked   so   hot  and   tired, 
'Cause   he   had   such  perspiration ; 
Fetched   him   in   some   "floating   island," 
Interspersed   with   pickled   walnuts, 
Which   he   much   preferred   of  all   things ;  • 
And   a  little  mug   of  cider, 
For   to   take   and   wash   it   down   with, 
Wash   the   floating   isle   and   walnuts, 
Isle   and   pickled   walnuts   down   with. 


Not  a  word   spoke   Pogee-wogee, 
But   she   heard   the  conversation 
Going   on,   while   he   was   feeding, 
Heard   him   tell   of  old   Marcosset — 
How   she   found   him,    how   she   nursed   him, 
Gave   him   porridge,    gave   him   catnip, 
Gave   him   pap   and   water   gruel ; 
Heard   him   tell   of   Silli-ninkum, 
And  the   very   fat   man,  Bee-del — 
How   the   former   piped   uncommon, 
And   the   latter  rolled   the   earth    round; 
Heard   him   give   a   fine   description 


MILKANWATHA'S  COURTSHIP  AND  MARRIAGE.         39 

Of    the   scenery   about   there, 
On   the   banks   of  Watta-puddel. 


"You  have  never  been  to  see  us, 
On   the   banks   of    Watta-puddel — 
You   nor  any   other   Noodles ; 
Shall   we   never   scrape   acquaintance  ? " 
Said   the   ardent   Milkanwatha. 
"  That   this   may   be   obviated, 
State   of   things   be   put   a   stop   to, 
S'pose   you   give   me    Pogee-wogee, 
For   to   be   a   wife   \\r\-to  me — 
Sweet- Potato,   charming  female, 
Much   the   handsomest   of    Noodles." 


For   some   minutes,  the    old  lady 
Smoked   her   solemn   pipe   in   silence ; 
Putting   on   her   glasses,   slowly, 
First   she   looked   at   Pogee-wogee, 
Then   she   looked   at   Milkanwatha; 
"  It   depends   on    Pogee-wogee — 
What  's   your   feeling   on   the   subject? 
Speak   your   mind   and   heart   out,   Pogee." 


40          MILKANWATHA'S  COURTSHIP  AND  MARRIAGE. 

And   the   charming   Sweet- Potato, 
To   the   very   ear-tips   blushing, 
With   a   dubious   expression, 
Crossed   the   wigwam   to   her   lover, 
Drew   her   stool   up,  saying   faintly, 
"  You   may   have   me,   if   you   want   to — 
I  '11  go   with  you,   Milkanwatha." 


Such  was   Milkanwatha's   courting, 
This   was  just  the   way   he   did  it, 
Bore   his   darling,   Pogee-wogee, 
From   her   grandma's   lonely   cabin, 
From   the   village   of  the   Noodles ; 
Back   he   bore   her   thro'    the   forests, 
Over   hills,   and   over  valleys, 
To   the   ancient   nurse's   wigwam — 
To   the  wigwam   of  Marcosset. 


All  along  the   line   of  travel, 

Birds  were  singing   to   the   lovers, 

Songs  of  welcome    'mid   the   branches, 

Songs  of  warm   congratulation, 


'I'n  the  ancient  nurse's  witnvrun — 
To  the  wifwnm  of  Marcosset." 


MILKANWATHA'S  COURTSHIP  AND  MARRIAGE.         41 

And   the   bugs  joined   in   the    chorus ; 
Sang   the    Opee-pod,    the   bullfinch, 
Sang   the    Nille-pip,    the    chippy, 
Sang   the   bluebird,    Lingo-Sneedel ; 
Hummed   the    Feesh-go-bang,    musquito, 
Hummed   Snappo,    the   pinching-beetle, 
And   the   dragon-fly,    Snap-peter; 
"Ain't   it   lucky,    ain't   it   lucky, 
Jolly   luck   for   Pogee-wogee, 
Jolly   luck   for   Milkanwatha." 


So   he   fetched   her   to    Marcosset, 
Fetched   the   lozenge,    fetched   the   gum-drop, 
Fetched   the   stick   of  maple    candy, 
Pogee-wogee,  Sweet-Potato, 
Best  beloved   of  female   Noodles. 


They  arrived   on   Tuesday   morning, 
And   were   married   Thursday   evening ; 
All  day   Tuesday,    old   Marcosset, 
Made   her   pies   and   preparations ; 
All   day  Wednesday,   boys   were   running 


42  MILKANWATHA  S    COURTSHIP   AND   MARRIAGE. 

Up   and   down,    throughout   the   village, 
For   to   leave   a   soda-cracker, 
At   the   door   of  every  wigwam, 
As   a   card   of  invitation — 
As   a   sign   that  Milkanwatha 
Meditated   matrimony. 

Thursday   came,   and   Thursday  evening, 
And   the   neighbors,   also,   with   it; 
Fast   they   crowded   in   the   wigwam, 
Crowded   in   the   pies   and   puddings, 
Which   Marcosset   made,    on   Tuesday; 
But  the   bride,  nor   bridegroom   neither, 
Didn't   eat   a  bit   of  nothing, 
Only  waited   on   the   others, 
Only   watched   the   pies   and   puddings 
Disappearing,   in   succession, 
In   the   stomachs   of  the   people. 

When   the   eating  part  was  over, 
There   was   singing,   piping,    dancing, 
And   the    evening  went   so   swiftly, 
That   it   left   the   guests   behind   it, 
Left   them,    'mid   the   hours   of  morning. 


MILKANWATHA'S  COURTSHIP  AND  MARRIAGE.         43 

Then   they   called   for   Silli-ninkum, 
For   to   sing   a   song   at  parting, 
And  he   came,   the   skillful   piper, 
Him   as   always   was   obliging, 
Piping,   when   requested   for   to ; 
Came,   and   sang   the    song   that   follows, 
Sang   the   verses,    'twixt   the   blowings, 
Sang   a   female's   lamentation, 
For   her   lover,    her   Bee-no-nee. 


"When   I   think   of  him    I    love   so, 
Oh   dear !   think   of  him    I   love   so, 
When   I   am   a-thinking   of  him — 

Ouch !   my   sweetheart,    my   Bee-no-nee. 


u  Oh   dear !   when   we   left   each   other, 
He   presented   me    a   thimble, 
As   a   pledge,    a   silver   thimble — 

Ouch  !   my  sweetheart,    my   Bee-no-nee  ! 


"'I  '11   go    'long   with   you,'    he   whispered, 
'Oh  my  !   to  the  place   you   came   from, 

4 


44         MILKANWATHA'S  COURTSHIP  AND  MARRIAGE. 

Let   me   go   along,'   he   whispered — 

Ouch  !   my   sweetheart,    my   Bee-no-nee  ! 


'"It  's   awful   fur,    full   fur,'    I   answered, 
'Fur   away  it   is,'    I    answered, 
'  Oh   my,   yes  !   the   place    I    come   from ' — 

Ouch !   my   sweetheart,    my   Bee-no-nee  ! 

"As   I   looked  round   for   to  see   him, 
Where    I   left   him,   for   to   see   him, 
He   was  looking   for   to   see   me — 

Ouch  !   my   sweetheart,   my  Bee-no-nee  ! 

"On  the   log   he   was   a-sitting, 
On   the   hollow  log   a-sitting, 
That  was   chopped   down  by   somebody  ! — 

Ouch !   my   sweetheart,   my   Bee-no-nee ! 

"When   I   think   of  him   I   love  so, 
Oh   my !   think   of  him   I   love   so, 
When   I    am   a-thinking   of  him — 

Ouch  !   my   sweetheart,   my   Bee-no-nee  ! " 


MILKANWATHA'S  COURTSHIP  AND  MARRIAGE.         45 

When   this   mournful   song   was   ended, 
All   the   folks   seemed   in   a   hurry 
For   to   go,  and  so   they   did  it, 
Leaving   there   the  nurse   Marcosset, 
With   the   bride   and   with   the   bridegroom ; 
And   they  all   three   started   eating, 
And   continued   so   till   morning — 
Till   the   Doodel-doo,    the   rooster, 
Crowed   the   daylight   up   next   morning. 


VI. 


PA-PA-MAMA. 


You  shall   hear   how  Pa-pa-mama, 
Pogee-wogee's   whilome   lover, 
In  the   village  of  the    Noodles, 
Came   one   time   to   Watta-puddel ; 
How   he    showed   himself  a   coward, 
How   he   proved   himself  a   rascal, 
How  he  reached   his   dissolution. 


It   was   in   the   sprinkly   Spring-time, 
That   he   came   to  Watta-puddel, 
Came   with   bitter   thoughts   inside   him. 
Came   to  be   revenged   on   Pogee, 
'Cause  she   had   in   times   departed, 
When  he   asked   her  to   be   his'n, 
Strongly   urged   her   to  be    his'n — 
47 


48  PA-PA-MAMA. 

Said  with  pitying  glance,   but   firmly, 
"  Never  your'n,  O   Pa-pa-mama  ! 
No,"   she   muttered,   "  never  his'n." 


Through  the  village   sneaking   came  he, 
At   the   dusky  hour  of  twilight, 
When   the   people   all   were   gathere^ 
As   their  custom  was  to   do   so, 
Met   together,  story-telling, 
In  the   fat  man  Bee-del's  wigwam ; 
Just   as   Bee-del  was  describing 
What   he  witnessed   while  a-rumbling, 
All   the   earth   around   a-rumbling 
On   his   swift,  mysterious  journey. 
And  the   people  listened  to   him, 
Winking  when   he   was  n't   looking, 
Much   as   if  to    say   "  We   know   him, 
Know  him   we  do,   you   and  me   do." 


He   had   seen,    he   said,   a  river 
Bigger  than  the   Watta-puddel, 
And   so   muddy  too,   said   Bee-del, 


PA-PA-MAMA.  49 

That   a   spoon   stands   straight   up   in   it ! 
And   the   people   pointed   slowly 
Over   the   left   shoulder,   saying, 
"  Oh   now,    Bee-del,  what   a   story, 
Boo,"   they   said,    "  you  're   telling,    Bee-del." 

On   this   river   deep   and   muddy, 

Swam   a   monster   like   a   sturgeon, 

Fatter   than   ten  thousand   sturgeons, 

And   his   fins,   instead   of  flapping, 

Round   and   round  continued   turning, 

Quite   as   fast   as    I   myself  did. 
"  Boo  !  "   the   people   cried   together, 
"  Boo  !  "   they   said,    "  it 's   such   a   big  one." 


On   his   head,    he   said,  were   growing, 
Straight   and   tall   as   is   the   pine   tree, 
Two   black  tusks   all   hollow   inside ; 
And   his   breath,  so   dark   and   dismal, 
Dark   as  thunder-clouds   in   summer, 
Through   them   rolled   forth   o'er   the   river, 
Darkening  all   the   landscape   over. 
"  Boo  !  "  they  said,    "  it 's   Bee-del   talking." 


50  PA-PA-MAMA. 

Round   his   mouth,   like    summer  lightning, 
Flames   of  fire   flashed   in   the   darkness, 
And  the   monster,   while   a-swimming, 
Shrieked   so   wildly   that   the   echoes 
On  the   far-off  misty   hill-sides, 
On   the   hill-sides   far  below  there, 
Up  and   answered   to   his   shrieking, 
Answered   as   the   tigress   answers 
To   the   tiger  in   the   forest. 
"  Boo  !  "   they   said,    "  a   likely   story  !" 


On   his   back  were   huddled,   shrinking, 
Men   and   women,  pale   and   shrinking, 
Pale-faced   as   the   moon   in  winter ; 
Borne   off  by   the   fiery   monster — 
For  the   prey  of  him   and   his'n, 
Borne   off,   as   the   tiger   swiftly 
Bears   his   victim   through   the   darkness, 
Bears  it   to   his   forest   hiding. 
And  the  people  winking,   whispered, 
"  What   a  liar  is   our   Bee-del ! 
Boo  ! "  they   said,    "  what  lies  he   tells   us." 


"Turned  the  table  bottom  upside, 
Turned  the  chairs  all  upside  downside." 


PA-PA-MAMA.  51 

In   the   meantime,    Pa-pa-mama 
Stealing  through  the   silent  even: 
Reached  the   wigwam   of  Marcosset ; 

"  No  one   here,"   he   said,   rejoicing, 

"  Coast   all  clear,"  he   said,  exulting ; 

"  All   the   folks  have   gone   to   Bee-del's." 

With   a   mushy   step   he    entered, 
Turned   the   tables   bottom   upside, 
Turned   the   chairs   all   upside   downside, 
Kicked  the   boiling  kettle  over, 
Piled  the   bed   clothes   in   the   corner, 
Crammed  the   bolster  up   the    chimney, 
For  to   trouble  Pogee-wogee, 
For   to   make   Marcosset   angry  ; 
After  which   he   started   homeward 
On  his   stealthy  journey   started. 

When   our   hero,    shortly   after, 
Came   and   saw   the   wild   disorder, 
"  Not   so   long,"   said   he,    "  his   legs   are, 
But   I  '11   catch   this   fellow  quickly." 

'Bout   a   mile   or   so   he  'd   travelled, 
On   the   track   of  Pa-pa-mama, 


5  2  PA-PA-MAMA. 

When   he   saw,  just  on   before   him, 
Pa-pa-mama   disappearing, 
Slowly   sinking  in   a  mud-hole, 
Saw   his   head   just   going  under; 
And   he   stepped   up   very  briskly, 
Shouting  down  into   the   mud-hole, 
"  Never  more,    O  Pa-pa-mama  ! 
Will   you   drop  into  our  wigwam; 
You   have   dropped   in   once   too   often. 
Turned   the   tables   are   forever, 
You   have   done   your   final   dropping;" 
Then  the   hole   closed   up   forever. 

But  the  people   of  the  village 
Still  remember   Pa-pa-mama; 
And  whenever  in   the  winter, 
While  they  're   sitting  story  telling, 
Comes   the   storm   wind   from   the   Northland, 
Rattling  all   the   doors   and  windows,  . 
Drifting  snow  around   the   wigwams; 
"  Lo,"   they  say,   "  't  is    Pa-pa-mama. 
Turning   all  things  wrong  side  upside, 
Turning   all  things  upside   downside — 
T  is  that  Pa-pa-mama's   doings." 


VII. 


THE  FEVER  AND  THE  AGUE. 


FIFTEEN  summers,   fifteen  winters, 
Fifteen  springs   and   fourteen   autumns, 
Full   of  joys   and   full   of  sorrows, 
Now   had   passed   since   Milkanwatha 
Bore   the  beauteous  Pogee-wogee 
To   the   banks   of  Watta-Puddel ; 
Full   of  joys,   with  wife   and  children, 
Full   of  griefs,   for   friends   departed. 


SiUi-niiikum,   the   sweet   piper, 
Him   as   piped  as   no   one   else   piped, 
He   had   passed   to    Ponee-rag-bag, 
To   the   regions   down   the    river ; 
He   had   done   his  final   piping 
On   the   banks   of  Watta-Puddel. 
53 


54  THE  FEVER  AXD  THE  AGUE. 

Going   out,   one   winter   morning, 
For   a   little   private   skating, 
Lo  !   the   ice   gave   way  beneath   him  ! 
Lo  !  the   chilling  waters   siezed   him, 
Bore   him,   struggling,   ever  downward, 
To  the   country  far    below  there, 
To   the   regions   down   the   river ! 

Bee-del,   too,   was   there   no   longer, 
Milkanwatha's   friend,   the   fat   man ; 
He   had   left   the   field   of  action, 
Left  the  banks   of  Watta-puddel. 

Since   the   piper   had   departed 
He   had  grown   a  great  deal  fatter, 
In   his   grief  for   having  lost   him, 
Grown  so   fat  he   seldom  waddled 
Through  the   village   as   aforetime, 
Only  hung  around   the  wigwam, 
Sprawled   himself  out   in   the   sunshine. 

But   one   day,   in   fiery   August, 
After   quite  a   hearty   dinner, 


THE  FEVER  AND  THE  AGUE.  55 

He   went   down,   he   rolled   himself  down, 

To   the   river   for   to   bathe   there, 

As   in   days   so  long   departed, 

When   he   washed   himself  more   often ; 

Far  into  the   stream  he  waded, 

And,   alas  !   the   current  seized   him ! 

As   it  seized  poor   Silli-ninkum ; 

In   its   wild   embrace   it   clasped   him, 

And   by  reason   of  his   fatness — 

Of  his   stomach's   monstrous   fatness, 

Which   prevented   him    from   striking, 

Striking   out   his  legs   as   usual — 

He   was   carried,   like   a   bladder, 

Floating   on  the   turbid   waters, 

To   the   land   of  Ponee-rag-bag, 

To   the   regions  farther   downward. 


Never  jumps   a  sheep  that  's   frightened, 
Over  any   fence   whatever, 
Over  wall,   or   fence,   or   timber, 
But   a   second   follows   after, 
And   a   third,   upon   the   second, 
And   a   fourth,   and   fifth,   and   so   on, 


«J  6  THE   FEVER   AND  THE   AGUE 

First  a  sheep,  and  then  a  dozen, 
Till  they  all,  in  quick  succession, 
One  by  one  have  got  clean  over: 

So   misfortunes,   almost  always, 
Follow  after  one   another, 
Seem   to   watch   each   other,   always  • 
When   they  see  the   tail   uplifted, 
In   the   air   the   tail   uplifted, 
As   the   sorrow   leapeth   over ; 
Lo  !   they  follow,   thicker,   faster, 
Till   the   air  of  earth   seems   darkened, 
With   the   tails  of  sad  misfortunes, 
Till   our   hearts,   within  us,   weary, 
Cry   out:   "Are  there   more  a-coming?" 

So,   alas,   our   Milkanwatha, 
Ten  years   after   he   was   married, 
In   that  most   uncommon  winter, 
Cried  out:    "Are   there   more  a-coming?" 

Oh,   that   most   uncommon   winter  ! 
Oh,   that   sneezy    freezy   winter  ! 


THE  FEVER  AND  THE  AGUE.  57 

Ever  faster  !   faster  !  !   faster  !  ! ! 

Fell  the  snow,   on  vale  and  hill-side ; 

Ever  colder  !   colder  !  !   colder  !  !  ! 

Swept  the  wild  winds  from  the   Northland, 

Swept   the   storm-wind  Gus-ta-blo-za  ! 

It  was  really  inconvenient, 

Merely  to   step  out  a  moment, 

And  to  go   to  any  distance, 

'Less  you  muffled  up,   completely, 

In   your  tippet   and   your  mittens, 

Was  n't  possible,   by  no  means, 

Without  getting  badly   frost-bit. 


Oh !   the   Fever  and  the  Ague ! 
Oh  !   the   burning  of  the    Fever ! 
Oh  !  the  shaking  of  the  Ague  ! 
Oh !   the   way   the   children   took   it ! 
Oh  !   the  way  the  mothers,   also, 
Took  the   Fever  and  the  Ague  !  ! 


To   the   ancient  nurse's  wigwam, 
Came   the  two  unpleasant  strangers, 


58  THE  FEVER  AND  THE  AGUE. 

Came,   without   an   invitation, 
Sat   them   down   by   Pogee,   boldly, 
Staring  at  the  female   Noodle  ! 
One   of  them   spoke  up,   remarking, 

"I   am   Fever,    Doan-chu-no-me  ! " 
And   the   other   one   continued, 

"I   am  Ague,   Wot-el-sha-ku  !  ' " 


But  the   frightened   Pogee,   shrinking, 
Kept   a-shaking   and   a-burning, 
'Cause   the   Fever  and  the  Ague, 
Came   and   sat   so   close   beside   her, 
'Cause  they   stared   so   steady  at   her. 


Right  into   the   weods   behind   there, 
Swiftly,   madly,   Milkanwatha 
Rushed  to   go   and  fetch  the   doctors — 
All   the   doctors   round   about   there ; 
And   the   ancient  nurse   Marcosset, 
She   so   skilled   in   chills   arid   fever, 
Gave   her  warm   drinks   for   to   cure   her, 
For  to   try   and   take   the   chill   off. 


THE  FEVER  AND  THE  AGUE.  59 

Then  the   doctors,  Nau-she-atus, 
Six  in  all,   came   in  to  see   her; 
Two  and  two,   they  came  together, 
Came   and   marched,   three   times,   around   her; 

Then  went  up  one  to  the  bed-side, 
"Put  your  tongue  out,   Pogee-wogee." 
Hi-ai-ai !   said  all  the  doctors, 
Ho-ang-ho !   the   queer  old  doctors, 
And  another  went,   observing, 
Pogee-wogee  's  got  the  Ague ; 
Hi-ai-ai !   said   all   the   doctors, 
Ho-ang-ho  !   the   queer   old   doctors. 
And  a  third   one  followed,  saying, 
Pretty  soon  she  '11  have   the   Fever; 
Hi-ai-ai !   said   all   the   doctors — 
Ho-ang-ho  !   the  queer  old  doctors. 
Then  the  other  three   did  likewise ; 
After  which,   they  marched  together, 
Two  and  two,   around  the  bedstead, 
Marched  out  from   Marcosset's  wigwam, 
In   the   manner  they   had   entered ; 
Hi-ai-ai !   the  wise  old  doctors — 
Ho-ang-ho !   the  wondrous   doctors. 
5 


6O  THE  FEVER  AND  THE  AGUE. 

But,   alas,   for   Pogee-wogee ! 
And,    alas,   for   Milkanwatha ! 
She,   the  loveliest   of  Noodles, 
Was   so   scorched   up   by  the   Fever, 
So  much  shook  up   by  the   Ague, 
That  she   spoke   nor  moved   no   longer, 
And   our   hero,    disappointed, 
Wrapt  her  in  a   heavy  blanket, 
In  the  very  neatest  manner, 
'Cording   to   the   village   custom ; 
And  they  bore   her   to   the  river, 
In  a   long   and   sad   procession ; 
And  they  stood   and   dropped   her  in  it, 
As  their  custom   was   to  do    so ; 
And  the  eager  waters   clasped   her, 
Bore   her  body,   as   it  had   done, 
In   the  case   of  him,   the   piper, 
In  the   case   of  him   the   fat   man, 
To  the   land   of  Ponee-rag-bag, 
To   the   regions   farther  downward. 


"Float   on   down,"   said   Milkanwatha, 
"Float   on   down,   my   duck,    my   darling, 


THE  FEVER  AND  THE  AGUE.  6 1 

Very  soon,   I  '11  follow  after, 

To  the  regions  down  the  river, 

I  shall  be  along,   my  darling, 

Be  along,  my  duck,   directly, 

Be  along,  my  duck,   my  darling — 

Float  on,  float,  and  keep  a-floating." 


VIII. 

MILKANWATHA'S  DEPARTURE  TO  PONEE-RAG-BAG. 

GOING  now  among   the   people, 
On  the   banks   there,   standing,   gazing, 
"Lo!"   he   told   them,   "I   am   going, 
I   am  going,   now,   to  leave  you, 
Going  down  the   Watta-puddel, 
To  the   region   of  the   sunset, 
To  the   hole  the   sun   drops  into, 
Over  yonder  red   horizon — 
Where  you  Ve  often   seen  me   standing, 
And   conversing  with  the  full-moon — 
And   I   shan't  be  back,   at  present, 
Not   for  quite   a  lengthy  season ; 
Take   care  of  yourselves,   my  people, 
Take  much  care,"   said   Milkanwatha. 


Then  he   quickly  pushed  his   skiff  off, 

Got  aboard  and  floated  in  it, 
62 


DEPARTURE  TO  PONEE-RAG-BAG.  63 

Down   the  river's   rushing   current, 
In   the   sunlight,   and   the   moonlight, 
Floating  towards   the  Western   sunset — 
On   his   silent  journey   floated; 
And  the  people  standing,   gazing, 
Saw  him  bobbing,  bobbing,   bobbing, 
Up  and  down  upon  the  river, 
Saw   his   Lawni-weeper  waving, 
Saw  his  handkerchief  a-waving, 
Far  adown  the  Watta-puddel ; 
And   they  all  continued  calling, 
Good-bye,   good-bye,   Milkanwatha  ;" 
And  the  gray  goose,   Dab-si-di-do, 
O'er  the  troubled  waters   flying, 
Screamed  out,   "Good-bye,    Milkanwatha;" 
And  the  Yalla-gal,   the  woodchuck, 
Squeaked  out,   "Good-bye,   Milkanwatha;" 
And  the  melancholy  bull-frog, 
Brek-e-kex-co-ax,   the  bull-frog, 
On  the  river's  slimy  margin, 
Echoed,   "Good-bye,   Milkanwatha." 

So  it  was  that  Milkanwatha, 
Him   as   is   our  story's   hero, 


64  DEPARTURE   TO   PONEE-RAG-BAG. 

Floated  down  the   Rushing  river, 
Floated  thro'   the  fields  and  forests, 
Thro'   the  vales  and  mountains   floated, 
Ever  bobbing,   bobbing,   bobbing, 
In   the   moonlight  and   the   sunlight, 
To   the  country  of   the  sunset, 
To   the  regions  farther  downward, 
To  the  land  of  Ponee-rag-bag, 
Far  adown   the   Rushing  river — 
Rushing  river,    VVatta-puddel. 


CONCLUSION. 

WHEN  the   hero   of  our  legend 
Reached   the   land  of  Ponee-rag-bag, 
Reached  the   hole  the  sun  drops  into, 
Lo  !  an  unexpected  pleasure 
Waited  for  him,   on  the  landing; 
In   her  blanket  wet   and   dripping, 
Just  as  much  alive  as  usual, 
Stood  there,  smiling,   on  the  landing, 
Pogee — loveliest  of  Noodles. 

For  the  water's   sudden   coldness, 
From   her   silent   stupor  waked   her, 
From   the   swooning   of  the   Fever, 
Which,    in   vain,   the    wise   old   doctors, 
Which  the   Ague,   vainly  shaking, 
Tried   to   make   her   wake   up   out   of, 
In   the   wigwam   of  Marcosset ; 

And   our   hero,   rushing  to   her, 
Clasped  her  in  his  arms,  exclaiming, 
65 


66  CONCLUSION. 

"  Lo  !  I  see  my  duck,  my  darling, 
See   the  moral  of  this   matter, 
See   the   lesson  that  it  teaches; 
What   the   Allopathic    Practice 
Was   unable  to   accomplish, 
Lo  !   how  quickly  was   effected 
By  the   Plunge-bath,   and  the   Blanket, 
By   the   use   of  Hydropathy: 
We   must  go   back,    Pogee   darling, 
Oh   dear !   to   the   place   we   come   from, 
We  must   hasten   to   our   people, 
And   disclose   to   them   this   system, 
Glorious   system — Hydropathy." 


And  they  found   there   Silli-ninkum, 
And   the   fat  man,   Bee- del,   also, 
In   the   same   mysterious   manner 
Rescued  from   the   hand   of  Danger — 
From   the   jaws   of  Dissolution ; 
And   they  all   went  back   together, 
And   he   told   the   grateful   people 
How   to   drive   off  all   diseases, 


CONCLUSION.  6  7 

By   the    Plunge-bath  and   the    Blanket — 
By  the   use   of  Hydropathy. 


To   this  day,    they   are   residing, 
Free   from   fear   of  chills   and   fever — 
"Worst   of  ills   that  flesh   is   heir  to," 
Darkest   shadow   o'er   our   pathway, 
From   the   present   to   the   future, 
From  the    '  is   now '    to   the   '  shall  be ' — 
To   this   hour  they  are   residing 
In   their   village,   by   the   river ; 
And   our  hero   doubly  liveth — 
On   the   banks   of  Watta-puddel — 
In   the   hearts  of  all   his   people, 
Whom   he  taught  the   Bath   and   Blanket — 
Glorious   System — Hydropathy. 


NOTES. 


PAGE   1 3.     Brck-e-kex-co-ax,  the  bull  frog. 

The  scholar  will  be  reminded  of  the  "  Frogs "  of  Aristo 
phanes.  The  word  is  one  of  a  vast  number  which  might  be 
referred  to,  in  evidence  of  the  fact,  that  "  Feejee,"  and 
"Greek,"  are  derived  from  a  common  root — and  the  translator 
has  no  hesitation  in  asserting  his  conviction,  that  the  early 
inhabitants  of  Greece — the  Pelasgians — were  colonists  from  these 
islands.  The  question  is  much  too  large  for  discussion  here. 

PAGE  2.     Literatim  et  -verbatim. 

The  introduction  of  this  familiar  Latinism  will  not,  it  is 
hoped,  be  deemed  in  bad  taste,  when  it  is  remembered  that 
our  own  language  furnishes  no  proper  substitute.  In  the 
original  it  reads,  "  Li-ka-zak-lee,  Jus-sa-zak-lee." 

PAGE  7.     Kimo-kairo,  or  Pretty  Pollie. 

It   is  a  favorite  name  with  the  Feejese.      It  is  probably  taken 

from  the  fable  of  the  "  Parrot  and  the  Partridge,"  a  verse  of  which 

69 


yo  NOTES. 

is  quoted  below — dropping,  of  course,  the  Feejee  characters,  but 
retaining,   as   nearly  as   possible,   the   sound   of  the   original : 

"  Kimo-kairo,  delto  mairo, 
Kimokairo  kimo? 
Strim-stram  pom  a  diddel, 
Lath-a-bon-ne,  rig-dam — 
Rig-dam-bol-le-meta-kimo. " 

PAGE  21.     Always  "  Jac,"  and  sometimes  "  Robbin-sun." 
The   reader  will   perceive,   that   to   this    language   we   are   in 
debted  for  the  expression;   "Before  you  can  say  Jack  Robinson." 

PAGE  23.     Did  flear-starching,  did  crochet-ing. 

It  is  believed  that  these  terms  more  nearly  define  to  the 
English  mind  the  nature  of  the  operations  alluded  to,  than 
any  others.  Goats'  milk,  however,  is  used  instead  of  starch — 
and  its  effect  is  to  soften,  rather  than  to  stiffen  the  material. 
All  work  of  the  latter  sort — knitting,  netting,  etc.,  is  done 
upon  the  thumbs,  without  the  aid  of  needles,  in  a  manner 
which  cannot  be  described. 

PAGE  31.     Just  as  to  a  big  umbrella. 

Umbrellas  are  known  to  have  been  in  common  use  in  these 
islands,  from  the  earliest  times.  They  are,  invariably,  con 
structed  of  sheet  tin. 

PAGE  39.     Putting  on  her  glasses,  slowly. 

The  Feejee  women,  of  all  ages,  are  proverbially  near-sighted. 


NOTES.  7 1 

In  the  other  islands  of  the  Pacific,  the  phrase,  "  as  blind  as 
a  Feejee,"  is  often  heard.  The  date  of  the  invention  of 
spectacles  is  unknown. 

PAGE  40.      To  the  very  ear-tips  blushing. 

This  expression  is  remarkable — not  because  of  its  poetic 
merit  only — but  from  the  fact  that  it  has  been  adopted  by 
two  poets  of  our  o\vn.  In  Keats'  Endymion,  we  find,  "  those 
ears, 

"  Whose  tips  are  glowing  hot." 

and  in  the  "  Life  Drama,"  by  the  "  modern  Shakspeare,"  as 
Alexander  Smith  has  been  aptly  designated  by  several  of  the 
prominent  English  reviews,  occurs  the  line 

"  Hot  to  the  ear-tips,  with  great  thumps  of  heart." 

PAGE  67.      Worst  of  ills  that  flesh  is  heir  to. 
The     striking     parallelism    between     this    line,    and    the    oft 
quoted    passage    from    Hamlet's    Soliloquy : 

"  The  thousand  natural  shocks  that  flesh  is  heir  to," 

may  excite  some  surprise.  In  the  poem,  it  will  be  seen  that 
it  appears  as  a  quotation — not  from  the  English  bard,  as 
some  might  suppose — but  from  Tremen-jus,  a  Feejee  poet  who 
flourished  about  the  year  13.  We  give  the  passage  in  which 
it  occurs,  put  into  the  mouth  of  a  war-chief,  while  vainly 
endeavoring  to  devour  an  old  enemy,  captured  in  battle. 

' '  Thou  tough   soul !    eating  of  whom  be  toil ! 
Juiceless,   thin,   of  bone  compact,   and  sinew, 


72  NOTES. 

Whereto   pertain'th   flavor,   deathful   strong; 

Not  for  food  adapt,  save  of  swiny  herd, 

Boar-marshalled,   tiger  thunder-begotten, 

Or  solar  wolf!     Famished  were   I, 

Youthfuller,    such   as  not,   then  less  heeded; 

Thus  being,   cannot   I   meat  introduct 

Of  mould  o'er-tasteful,   all   pervasive,    rank, 

Of  ills  flesh  be  th'  heir  to,  worst  much,  may  be ! " 

It  must  be  borne  in  mind,  however,  that  the  poem  in 
question  was  written  in  ruder  times. 

At  the  period  of  the  translator's  residence  in  Chaw-a-man- 
up,  the  practice  of  cannibalism  had  been,  for  many  years, 
abandoned,  and  in  other  islands  of  the  group,  the  minds  of 
the  people  were  so  far  enlightened,  that  human  flesh  was 
indulged  in  only  on  Sundays. 

PAGE  67.     Whom  he  taught  the  Bath  and  Blanket. 

The  period  of  the  introduction  of  the  Water  treatment  into 
this  island  cannot  be  definitely  fixed,  but  it  is  supposed  to 
vary  little  from  the  date  of  the  Downfall  of  the  Roman 
Empire. 

Milkanwatha,  the  hero  of  the  Legend  and  the  founder  of 
the  System,  now  ranks  among  the  highest  of  the  Feejee 
divinities.  His  name  is  held  religiously  sacred,  and  he  is 
always  addressed,  as  the  "god  of  the  psycho-pompous  function." 

Much  additional  information  concerning  him,  may  be  found 
in  the  translator's  forthcoming  work,  "  The  Cyclopaedia  of 
Feejee  Literature." 


VOCABU  LARY. 


Brek-e-kex-co-ax 

Bee-del 

Bee-no-nee 

Boo 

Clog-a-logs 

Cutta-dido 

Doan-chu-no-me 

Doo-del-doo     . 

Feesh-go-bang 

Gusta-blo-za     . 

Hi-ai-ai 

Hitta-ka-dink  . 

Ho-ang-ho 

Kimo-kairo 

Lawni-weeper 

Lingo-sneedel 

Lum-ba-go 

Mar-cos-set 

Me-le-wee-git     . 

Milkanwatha 

Mulee-donkee    . 

M  us-tug-gin 


73 


Bull-frog 

Fat  Man 

Dear  darling 

Pshaw 

Boots 

.     Pigeon's  wing 

Fever 

Rooster 

.     Musquito 

.     Storm-wind 

Yes,  of  course 

Lullaby 

Yes,  by  all  means 

.     Pretty  Pollie 

Handkerchief 

Bluebird 

Snipe 

Ancient  nurse 

Lightning-bug 

Star-born 

Good  boy 

.     Verdant  valley: 


74 


VOCABULARY. 


Spoopendykes 

Nil-le-pip 

Noodles 

Nau-she-a-tus 

O-pee-pod 

Pa-pa-mama 

Peek-week 

Pee-ne-wig 

Plow-e-tup 

Po-gee-wo-gee     . 

Po-nee-rag-bag 

Quag 

Rig-dam-bol-le-met-a-kimo 

Roo-ta-ba-ga 

Rum-pa-lum-kin 

Snap-po 

Snap-peter 

Silli-ninkum 

Splosh-ka-swosh-ky 

Sticka-ta-wa-in 

Spoo-ne-boo-be 

Sum-punk-in 

Wot-el-sha-ku 

Thimbel-nubbin 

Tiz-za-riz-zen 

Watta-puddel 

Yal-la-gal 


Feejee  tribe 

Chippie 

Feejee  tribe 

Doctors 

Bullfinch 

Storm-fool 

Squirrel 

Turkey-buzzard 

Corn-field 

Sweet-potato 

Land-far-down 

Duck 

Partridge 

Magic  leggins 

Sweet  singer 

Pinching-beetle 

Dragon-fiy 

Sweet  piper 

Sound  of  water 

Flea 

Brave  boy 

Jolly  wag 

Ague 

Big  Dipper 

Sound  of  breezes 

Rushing  river 

Woodchuck 


ADDITIONAL     POEMS. 


TO 

LAFFAN     GROFATTE, 

SWISS    CONSUL   AT   CHAWAMANUP, 

WHOM        I        REGARD        AS        A        HUMAN        BEING        AND 
RESPECT      AS      AN      INDIVIDUAL, 

THESE     MINOR     POEMS, 

TRANSLATED   AT   HIS   SUGGESTION, 

ARE  AFFECTIONATELY  DEDICATED. 
M.    A.    H. 


PREFATORY  TO  SMALLER  POEMS. 


THE  POEMS  which  follow  are  added,  not  by  reason  of  their 
supposed  superiority  to  other  works  of  a.  similar  character  within 
the  range  of  Feejee  literature,  but  because,  like  the  "  Song  of 
Milkamvatha,"  they  so  nearly  resemble  familiar  productions  by 
distinguished  authors. 

This  resemblance  the  reader  can  hardly  fail  to  recognize, 
since  in  some  minds  it  has  laid  the  foundation  of  a  belief 
that  many  poems,  hitherto  regarded  as  the  legitimate  progeny 
of  the  English  muse,  are,  after  all,  nothing  more  than  parodies 
upon  Feejee  originals :  a  theory  which  we  might  less  em 
phatically  reject, — did  noc  the  reputation  of  the  authors  in 
question  forbid  us  to  harbor,  for  one  moment,  the  suspicion 
that  they  could  descend  from  their  high  position  as  men  and 
poets — to  attack  a  struggling  literature  like  the  Feejee,  with  a 
weapon  so  unworthy  of  their  powers  as  the  Parody — so 
universally  condemned  by  the  rules  of  the  literary  "service." 

Beyond  the  desire,  therefore,  of  pointing  out  these  new 
curiosities  of  literature,  the  translator  has  no  wish  to  say 
aught  that  might  subject  the  writings  of  either  language  to 
unfair  comparison  with  those  of  the  other.  He  is  too  jealous 

79 


80  PREFATORY. 

of  the  interests  of  English  literature,  to  institute  an  inquiry 
which  might  depreciate  the  merits  of  the  gifted  fe\v  whom  the 
world  has  ever  delighted  to  honor,  and  he  should  go  down 
to  a  speedy  and  uneasy  grave,  were  he  conscious  of  having 
torn  a  sprig  from  the  laurel  wreath  that  binds  the  brow  of 
a  single  one  of  the  sweet  singers  of  England  or  America. 

That  they  may  see  for  themselves,  however,  the  likeness 
referred  to,  the  translator  lays  before  his  readers  the  Feejee 
ballads,  and  side  by  side  with  them  the  opening  lines  of  their 
English  parallelographs,  (if  the  use  of  such  a  word  may  be 
allowed,)  believing  that,  awakened  by  such  familiar  tones,  the 
remaining  verses  will  flutter  lightly  forth  from  their  nesting- 
place  in  the  memory  and  neart 


THE     CREEK 

(AN  IDVDL.) 


"  Here  by  this  brook,  we  parted:  I  to  the  East, 
And  he  for  Italy — too  late — too  late." 

"THE  BROOK."— Alf.  Tennyson. 


HERE,  by  this  log,  we  shook  Good-bye ;    for  good ; 
I  starting  home,  and  he  for  Borneo, 
With  one  lung  left,  and  that  one  tubercled ; 
Poor  boy — poor  boy ;  fonder  of  making  rhymes 
Than  money  he,  and  loving  verses  bet- 
Ter  far  than  better  things;  he  ne'er  could  see 
How  money  grew ;  it  sprouted  not,  he  knew, 
Nor  had  it  seed ;  how  strange,  he  often  said ; 
Yet  he  himself  made  verses  out  of  naught 
But  air.     Oh,  would  he  'd  lived  !     In  history 

We  read,  how  empires  reach  a  glorious  height, 

81 


82  ADDITIONAL  POEMS. 

And  afterwards  decline;  but  otherwise 

It  was  with  him ;  he  never  rose  to  fame 

But  afterwards,  or  rather  previously, 

Declined;  he  never  rose  to  glory,  but 

Skipped,  as  't  were,  from  where  he  should  have  risen, 

To  where  he  fell;  he  lived  before  he  died, 

Yet  died  before  he  lived,  and  went  to  seed. 

Too  late  to  save  the  final  lung,  he  left 

For  Borneo ;  and  yet  this  stream  of  which 

He  was  so  special  fond,  to  me  doth  seem, 

Of  him  to  me  this  present  hour  to  chat, 

To  me,  of  him  especial  fond,  to  chat, 

For,  "  O  thou  creek,"  he  said,  "  O  running  creek," 

Said   Wilkins    in    his    rhyme,    "whence    flow'st    thou? 

where  ? 
Why    flow'st    thou?    whither?"    and    the     creek — why 

should 
A  running  creek  do  otherwise  ? — replies  : 


I  flow  from  places  up  above, 

I  spring  from  out  a  valley ; 
And  then  run  down  you  know,  my  love, 

Run  down  continu-ally. 


THE   CREEK.  83 

By  twenty  hills  I  hurry  down, 

And  over  twenty  ripples ; 
By  sixty  trees,  a  smallish  town 

Of  say  a  hundred  peoples, 

Till,  finally,  it  happens  so, 

I  reach  the  farm  of  Dolly; 
For  men  go  up  and  downward  go, 

But  I  go  downward  alway. 

Poor  Wilkins  on  his  way  to  Borneo, 
At  Botany-Bay,  he  died.     Observe  the  bridge, 
Weaklier  than  'twas;  the  mill-dam  there ; 
Here  Dolly's  farm,  referred  to  in  the  verse. 

I  chuckle  over  stones  and  sticks, 

I  laugh  and  gossip  often ; 
I  whistle  into  bays  a::d  creeks, 

I  hurry  down  a-coughing. 

Round  many  capes,  of  many  shapes, 
By  hook  and  crook  I  travel ; 


84  ADDITIONAL   POEMS. 

And  under  stones  my  current  creeps, 
And  over  sand  and  gravel. 


I  keep  it  up,  while  running  down 

Towards  the  farm  of  Dolly; 
For  men  go  up  and  men  go  down, 

But  I  go  downward  alway. 

But  Dolly  chattered  more  than  babbling  creeks ; 
Old  Dolly ;  wheresoe'er  you  went  she  was ; 
And  where  she  went,  her  tongue  went  always  too, 
As  tiresome  as  a  spinster  katy-did. 

My  current  wriggles  very  fast, 

With  bubbles  floating  in  it ; 
And  now  a  spider  swimmeth  past, 

Or  stops  to  breathe  a  minute  ; 

And  now  comes  sailing  down  a  stick, 
And  now,  perhaps,  a  clover ; 

And  then  the  clover  hits  the  stick, 
And  both  go  rolling  over  : 


THE    CRKKK.  85 

And  yet  I  never  stop,  you  know, 

But  hasten  down  to  Dolly, 
For  men  go  up  and  downward  go, 

But  I  go  downward  alway. 

O  Daisy  Peters,  niece  of  Dolly,  though  ! 
A  female  of  this  age,  yet  not  insane  ; 
A  native  of  our  clime,  and  yet  as  good 
As  foreign  born ;  straight  as  a  pine  tree — as 
A  willow  slim ;  with  violet  eyes  and  hair 
A  bright  and  cheerful  sort  of  reddish  brown, 
The  hue  of  birch  bark  on  the  under  side. 


Dear  Daisy  !  well,  I  helped  her  much  one  time, 
Her  and  the  youth  whom  she  had  promised  to 
Be  his    tho'  not  to  change  her  name,  because 
The  man  was  Tobee  Peters    cousin  he 
Upon  her  father's  side ;  and  so  her  name 
Continued  Peters,  still,  you  understand. 
'T  was  thirty  years  ago,  or  nigh  to  that, 
And  pretty  hard  upon  the  mournful  time, 
When  I  and  Wilkins  separated  here ; 
I  came  across  the  bridge — 't  was  shaky  then, 


86  ADDITIONAL   POEMS. 

As  now  much  more,  curving  across  the  face 
Of  Nature,  like  an  ancient  Roman  nose — 
I  came  across  it,  whistling  "  Scots  wha'  ha'e," 
And  whittling  on  a  shingle,  nothing  much, 
'T  was  quite  a  habit  then  I  had,  and  kicked 
At  Dolly's  stable  gate.     'T  was  out-  of  fix 
Some  way,  and  Dolly,  hearing  how  it  squeaked, 
Shrieked  out,  "  You  Daisy,  run  !  "  but  that  she  could 
N't  do  :  her  weight  was  close  to  twenty  stone  : 
And  so  she  waddled  out  towards  the  barn, 
And  met  me  there,  quite  flustered,  I  observed, 
And  moist  about  the  eyes ;  a  little  downy, 
So  to  speak,  and  red  as  bashful  peach. 

What  was  it?  something,  sure,  was  in  the  wind 

Because  she  was  n't  downy,  in  the  sense 

I  mean,  at  usual  times,  nor  often  let 

A  little  sorrow,  from  her  heart's  deep  well, 

Draw  up  the  bucket  of  unpleasant  tears. 


She  told  me  what.     They  'd  fallen  out,  herself 
And  Tobee.     "  What  about  ?     How  came  it  so  !  " 
"  Oh  !  nothing  much,"  she  said ;  "  Tobee  was  sort 


THE   CREEK.  87 

Of — well,  she  knew  not  what,  and  she  had  said 
Something,  she  knew  not  how,  or  why,  or  when, 
Which,  some  way,  made  the — well,  had  kind  of  placed 
Them  thus."     "Who  did  it  first?"     She  rather  thought 
'T  was  him — or  her — or  neither  first,  perhaps, 
Things    somehow   seemed  to  !  "      Here  her  tears  burst 

forth, 

And  swept  her  choking,  struggling  words  afar 
Beyond  the  harbor  of  my  open  ear. 


"Why  don't  he  come?"  says  I.     "He  will,"  says  she. 
"  That  's   what   he   wants,"  says   she.     "  Well, 

what,"  says  I, 

"Prevents?"     "Her  aunt  kept  talking  so,"  she  said, 
"  He  could  n't  get  to  say  beyond  a  word, 
But  she  would  cut  him  short,  and  so  he  feft, 
Disgusted  with  her  aunt  and  also  her." 


"Well,  what   can  I   do,  then?"  says  I.     "Will   you?" 
Says  she.     "Do  what?"  says   I.     " Converse  with  aunt 
For  half  an  hour  or  so,  till  me  and  Wilk 
Make  up?"     She  looked  so  soft,  I  says,  "Oh  yes!" 


ADDITIONAL   POEMS. 


And  ere  I'd  finished  saying  Yes,  he  came 
Across  the  lot,  a-bobbing  thro'  the  corn. 


So  in  I  went  and  entered  into  talk 
With  Dolly,  who  was  darning  stockings  there ; 
Oh  !  how  she  rattled  though,  and  made  me  go 
And  see  her  Christmas  pig,  and  told  me  how 
He  grew  a  pound  a  day,  until  she  feared 
A  rush  of  blood  to  head  might  take  him  off 
Ere  Christmas  came ;  and  then  her  Shanghai  fowls ; 
And  measured  one  great  rooster's  legs  four  times, 
To  prove  't  was  eighteen  inches  long,  which  't  was, 
Pulling  a  feather  from  his  tail  besides, 
For  me  to  carry  to  my  youngest  child : 
She  showed  me  next,  her  cow ;  and  then  began 
And  told  me  how  old  Farmer  Huff  had  tried 
To  buy  a  cow,  the  dam  of  this,  one  time, 
But  she  knew  Farmer  Huff,  and  would  n't  sell 
For  twice  the  sum ;  he  called  her  crazy  too, 
But  she  knew  what  it  ought  to  bring,  and  he 
Came  after,  twice,  to  offer  more,  in  vain, 
For  she  knew  what  a  cow  like  that  would  bring, 
And  would  n't  be  imposed  by  Huff  at  all ; 


THE   CREEK.  89 

And  so  she  stuck ;  until  one  day,  't  was  March, 
She  said — let  see — yes,  sixth  of  March  he  came, 
A  Friday  't  was — and  took  the  old  cow  home 
At  her  own  price ;  just  as  she  'd  said  he  would, 
For  she  knew  him,  and  what   a  cow  like  that 
Had  ought  to  bring ;  it  was  n't  such  a  cow 
As  grew  on  every  bush,  she  knew  of  that. 


And  when  I  thought  she  'd  done,   she  off  again, 
And  told  me  how  this  present  cow  gave  more 
Than  two  pints  more  than  her — and  how  she  thought 
'T  would  be  as  much  as  nigh  a  quart  in  June — 
Until  I   felt  as  if  she  'd  drive  me  mad, 
And  said  I  must  go  home ;    and  so  we  turned 
And  entered  back,   as  Wilk  and   Daisy  came 
In  front,   their  little   matters   all   arranged, 
As  full  of  smiles  as  Dolly's  cow  of  milk, 
Talking  and  laughing  like  the  babbling  creek. 

• 

I    sweep   around   the   mossy   rocks, 

I   slip   beneath   the   rushes, 
I   whisper  to   the   hollyhocks 

That   doze   among   the   bushes. 


9O  ADDITIONAL    POEMS. 

I    hop,  I  glide,    I   pop,    I  slide, 
From   unexpected   places, 

I   make   the   bullfrogs   blush   and   hide 
To   see   their   homely   faces. 


Through   March   and   April,   May,   July, 
June,   August   and  •  September, 

October   and   November,   I 
Run   on,    until    December ; 

From   that   till  first   of  March   again, 
It  's   often   on   I  'm   flowing, 

And   off  and   on  I   stop,   and   then 
It  's   off  and   on   I  'm   going. 

And  so,  you   know,   I   run   and   flow 
With   many   a   whirl   and   eddy, 

While  men   go   up   and   down   they  go, 
I   go   down  always   steady. 


Yes !   that  is   true ;   men   have   their   ups   and   downs, 
And  likewise   I ;   my   friends   have   disappeared. 


THE   CREEK.  91 

In   Botany-Bay   doth   Wilkins   sleep,   beside 

The   rushing  waves   of  Swallawaggle's   stream : 

His   grave   th'   "  obscure   initials   W.   M. " 

Doth   bear ;   I   saw ;   Dolly's  swift   tongue   is   tied 

By   hand   of  Death ;   and  Daisy's   tracks   are   found 

Around   the   base   of  Popocatapetl, 

Far   from   this   isle ;   yes,   ne'er   a  one   is   left. 

So  Jabez   Tomkin,    sitting   on   a  log, 
With   one   foot   either   side,   did   ruminate — 
Strange   memories   and   stranger   rhymes,   meanwhile, 
Swift  passing  through   his   head   deprived  of  hair, 
When  something  like   a   puffing   made  him  look ; 
And   as   he   turned   he   saw   a   ro^y   lass 
Climbing   the   fence ;   greatly   to   his  surprise ; 
And   she  did   blush   exceeding  much.      Her   eyes 
Were   violet,    and   her   hair   a   reddish  brown, 
The   hue   of  birch-bark   on   the   under   side  ; 
And  Jabez,    more   and   more   surprised,   inquired, 
"Are   you   from  yonder  farm?" — "I  be,"   says  she. 
"Excuse   me:   stop,  I  beg;  and  what's  your  name?" 
"  Daisy." — "  Daisy  ! — that  's   singular,"    says   he. 
"  What  's  t'  other?"—"  Peters."—"  No  !  "— "  Oh,  yes,  it 
be!"— 


92  ADDITIONAL   POEMS. 

"  Do  n't   say  !  " — and    then    he   looked   so   very   queer, 

That   Daisy  giggled,   and   directly   he 

Did   also   giggle,    as  't   were   in   his   sleep. 

"You  're   much   too   fat,   and   red,    and  healthy-like, 

To  be   the   ghost   of  Daisy   Peters,   here- 

Abouts,   nigh   on  to   thirty   years   ago  ! " 

"Why,   don't   you   know?"     says    Daisy,     "lor,     how 

queer ! 

We  've   come   and   took   the  farm  again,  you  see, 
Am   I   so   like   as   that? — just  what   he    said, 
The   stage   man,   coming   down !     In   case   you   know 
My   ma,   you  'd   best  go    'long,    sir,   now,   with   me. 
Dick,   he  's   gone  down   the   lane   to   fetch   the    cow ; 
But  ma — she  's    home,    I   know — Walk  in,   Walk   in  !  " 


SELECTIONS  FROM  "  MAWDE." 


I. 


HAVE   I  been  asleep,   do  you  s'pose, 
Right  here,     I   can't   tell   how? 

Was   I   in  a  sort  of  a  doze, 
While   lying   here. just   now? 

Boys  were   laughing  together, 

Laughing   and   talking   of  me ; 
"  Well,    I   guess   if  it  's   him,   it  's   him, 
And   if  not,   why   who   can   it   be? 

Is   it   a   shadow   of  something 
Seen   with  a   ghastly   smile, 

Savages   grinning   together 
Upon   a   Cannibal   isle? 
93 


94  ADDITIONAL   POEMS. 

Queer,   that   I   hear   two   boys, 

Somewhere,  talking   of  me, 
"Well,    I   guess   if  it  's   him,    it  's   him, 
And   if  not,  why  who   can   it  be  !  " 


II. 

Go   not,    Sara-jane, 

From   this   place   and  me, 
Go   not,    Sara-jane, 

Not   till   after   tea. 
'T  is  n't   dark,  you   know, 

'T  is  n't   dark   till   eight, 
'T  is  n't   dark   until 

Seven,   at   any  rate. 
If  the   happy  Yes, 

You   will   only  say, 
I  '11  tell  Antso-phia 

You  're   going  to   stay ; 
Going  to   stay   an   hour, 

Going   to   stay   till   dusk, 


SELECTIONS    FROM    "  MAWDE."  95 

Stay   and   drink   some   tea, 

Stay   and   eat   some   rusk. 
I'll   tell  Antso-phia, 

Tell   her   quick   as  look, 
And  then,   Antso-phia, 

She   will   tell  the   cook; 
Tell   the   cook  the   fact, 

Tell   her   how  't  will   be, 
Tell  her  bake  the  rusk, 

Tell   her   make   the   tea. 
Go  not,   Sara- jane, 

Oh,   no,   Sara,   wait, 
Stay,   oh  Jane,   till   seven, 

Sara- jane,    till   eight. 


III. 

Come  out  in  the  garden,  Jane, 

For  the  black  bear,  night,  has  run, 

Come  out  in  the  garden,  Jane, 
It  's  time  the  party  was  done ; 


96  ADDITIONAL   POEMS. 

And  the  chickens  commence  to  cackle  again, 
And   the  cocks   crow   one   by   one. 


For   a  breeze   begins   to   blow, 

And   the   planet  of  Jupiter,   he, 
Grows   shaky  and   pale   as   the   dawn,    you    know, 

Comes   striding  over  the  sea, 
Grows  pale  as  the  dawn  keeps  coming,  you  know, 

Grows   paler  and  paler  to   be. 


All   night  have   the   tulips    shaked 

At   the   noise   of  the   fiddle   and   drum; 

All     night     has     the     trumpet-vine    quivered    and 

quaked, 
As   the    sounds   of  the   dancing   come; 

Till   chickens   and   cocks   in   the  hen-roost  waked, 
And  they   stopt  the   fiddle  and   drum. 


I   said  to   the  tulip,   "  It  's    I,"   says   I, 
"  Whom   she  likes   best   of  them   all ; 

Wh/sn  will   they  let   her   alone,"    says   I, 
"  She  's   tired,    I   know,   of  the   ball. 


SELECTIONS    FROM    "  MAWDE.  97 

Now  part  of  the  folks  have  said   Good-bye, 

And  part  are  there  in  the   hall, 
They  '11   all   be   off,    directly,"  says   I, 
"And   then   I  'm   over  the   wall." 


I    said  to   the   pink,    "  Nigh   over,    I    think, 
The   dancing  and   glancing   and   fun : 

O   young   Lloyd   Lever,   your   hopes  will   sink, 
When  you   find   the   charmer  is   won ; 

We  're  one,  we  're  one,"  I  remarked  to  the  pink, 
"  In   spirit,    already,   one." 

And   the   red   of  the   pink  went   into   my   face, 

As   I   thought  of  your   sweet,    "I   will;" 
And   long   I   stood   in   that   slippery  place, 

For   I   heard   our   waterfall   spill, 
Spill   over   the   rocks   and  run   on   in   the    race, 

The   mill-race   down  by   the   mill  ; 
From   the   tree   where   I   feebly   stated   my   case, 

To  the  fence  where  you  answered,   "  I  will." 

The   drowsy  buttercup   went  to  bed, 
Nor  left   a   lock   of  her   hair; 


98  ADDITIONAL  POEMS. 

The  great   sunflower,  he  nodded  his  head, 
And«  the  poppy   snored  in  his  chair; 

But   the   pink   was  n't   sleepy  at  all,   she   said, 
Wishing   my   pleasure   to   share, 

No   tulip  nor  pink   of  them   cared  for  bed, 
They  knew  I   expected  you  there. 


Queen  pink  of  the   feminine   pinks,   in  there, 

Come   out   in   the   garden   to  me, 
In   the  velvet  basque .  silk-lined   you  wear, 

Queen   pink   and   tulip   you   be ; 
Bob   out,   little   face,  running   over   with   hair, 

And  let  the   hollyhocks   see. 

Is   that   the   marigold's  laugh   I   hear, 

Or  the   sound  of  her   foot   as  't   fell? 
She   is   coming,    my   duck,   my  dear; 

She   is   coming  my   bird,   my  belle ; 
The  blood-pink  cries,  "  She  is  near,  she   is  near," 

And   the   pale-pink   sobs,    "  Do   tell ;  " 
The   Snap-dragon   says,   "D'  you   see   her,   d'  you 
see   her?" 

And   the   tulip—"  There   by   the   well ! " 


SELECTIONS    FROM    ''"  MAWDE."  99 

She   is   coming,   my  joy,   my   pet ; 

Let  her  trip  it,  soft  as  she   chose, 
My  pulses  would  livelier  get, 

Were   I   dying  under  the   rose ; 
My  blood   flow  rapider  yet, 

Were   I   buried   down   under   the  rose ; 
Would   start   and  trickle   out  ruby  and  wet, 

And  bubble  wherever  she  goes. 


.    .  Hill  «...».,„„„„,„ 

A  A      000024847 


